are you smoking yet?

I've been thinking quite honestly about quitting smoking. Anyone new to this blog (most, as this blog is currently in its inception), and thus, those submitting to it, may not understand the totality of this statement. After typing that first sentence, I freaked the fuck out because I had an unlit cigarette in my mouth and couldn't find my "Adorable Satan lighter" (I have a friend who makes ghetto customized lighters . . . yup), nor could I find the complimentary pack of matches I took from a rather unseemly bar just to keep my oven lit during the Holidays, when I make cookies for people . . . I found the matches. Fuck you if you want to experience my pumpkin spice cookies . . .

I love the idea of a cigarette. I love the meditation, the relief, the drama, the something/anything it gives me to do. Cigarettes are reflective and meaningful and a whole lot better than talking after sexing/drugging/drinking/fighting. It's the punctuation you need after that perfect sentence. The screen to hide behind.

And then reality sets in--you start to think about how horrible smoking is. How you might get the lung cancer, the emphysema, cardiovascular disease, cataracts and possibly Alzheimer's (according to angry non-smokers on Wikipedia). If I quit now (from what the "info" tells me), my lungs could be like a newborn's within five years. According to ex-lovers, who were also quite conveniently ex-smokers, quitting is the cheapest way to acheive what advertisers call "male enhancement." Not that I need to worry about that in the least, but still, who isn't irrationally greedy in that department . . .

The problem remains: what is moose-humping cooler than smoking??? Damn the cough, the smell, the extra $45.00 on my insurance. Smoking is badass when you're feeling insecure. It's instant devil-may-care. It's danse macabre. It's the rebel and the good-kid-gone-wrong, and everything you need to be when the chips are down. It's celebration, victory and accomplishment.

It's also sometimes an empty pack and having to go to the market in your jammies...

to be continued, as it seems...